


More Than A Machine

by GaryOwen1965



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anthropomorphic, Boobs on Robots, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, HMOFA - Freeform, Horror, Large Breasts, Masturbation, Mild Horror, Mystery, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, Romance, Sentient Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's), Slow Burn, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25195501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaryOwen1965/pseuds/GaryOwen1965
Summary: Michael Afton, after being turned away by numerous employers on the account of his familial ties to the murderous William Afton, is about to give up looking for a decent job. But before he does, a mysterious letter appears on his front proch, offering him a small task: Find the Circus Gang under William's old workshop and bring them back to working order. However, it will not be easy, as Michael find out during his five nights there that the animatronics want nothing more to get under his skin. Literally. Except for one. Anthro animatronics. Female Funtime Foxy. NOT an R63, btw.
Relationships: Michael Afton/Funtime Foxy, Michael Afton/Lolbit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a little something that I came up with and thought that it would be a great opportunity to add something to the fandom. This will be posted on Fanfiction.net so you, the audience, can find it there. Enjoy.

For two months Michael Afton has been out of a job. For two months he was rejected and turned away by employer after employer, job opportunity after job opportunity, all because his father was the infamous child murderer, William Afton. Michael was devastated by the news when he woke up from his coma, as it was the first thing he learned upon regaining consciousness. He was also ashamed to call that monster his father. He wanted to get away from all of that, but unfortunately for him, no one in his hometown, or state, wanted to let him forget about his relation to ‘The Purple Guy’.

Michael let out a sigh as he opened another can of soda and chugged it in less than twenty seconds. After he finished emptying the can, he set it aside on the end table next to him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It's not that he really needed a job, anyway. He just wanted something to do and keep from getting bored in his family's countryside mini-mansion. His father's business provided the Aftons with enough wealth to last at least three generations, including the future taxes and mortgages in the time to come. Then came William's child-murdering spree and ended the steady flow of income. But the money stayed with the only conscious member of the family: Michael's older brother. Until Michael had woken up from his coma, that is. But even with all that money, Michael didn't know what to do, now that all that remained of his ruined family was himself and his older brother, whom Michael still hated for what he did to him.

Speaking of which, Michael reached up to his head and slowly brushed his fingers against it. He hissed and pulled his hand away when a painful tingle formed in the entirety of his brain, which was replaced after he received a literal, and near-fatal, crushing blow to it nearly seventeen years ago. The animatronic that his brother and his friends put him in the jaws of had done a big number on him. Several skull fractures and severe brain damage; the doctors announced that he would not survive more than a day on life support. But his father was relentless and would not give up on him. Michael practically died, but William found a way to bring him back. However, he wouldn't be alive and present to witness Michael's resurrection.

Even to this day, Michael could still feel the building pressure on his head before it was eventually crushed and 'killed' him as a result. Sometimes, he would have nightmares, reliving that moment over and over again, keeping him from achieving a full-rest at night. He also was affected by the 'phantom limb effect', although in his case, it would be 'phantom organ'. Not having his original brain, as well as a completely reconstructed skull, made him feel fuzzy in the head from time to time. Often times, he felt as if there was nothing there. It felt weird and unnatural.

Michael sighed again and let his arm full to rest on his lap, his gaze fixated on the television in front of him. A rerun of an old 60's show blared on the speakers. It was an okay program in his opinion, but it never failed to bring a smile and the occasional chuckle to him. It made him forget about his troubles and helped him disconnect from the outside world.  _ Knock-knock-knock! _ When there were no distractions, of course.

He checked the grandfather clock on the wall and read the time:  _ 10:57 p.m. _ He frowned and looked at the door.  _ Who on Earth would be out at this hour? _ Suspicious, Michael rose from the couch and to his feet and crept towards the door, careful to make no sound, and grabbed a bat from the umbrella vase, just in case he needed to defend himself. As he reached out a hand to turn the bolts and locks, another trio of knocks sounded and made Michael jump slightly. But he quickly recovered and started turning the numerous deadbolts and locks on the door as fast as he could before throwing it open and raised his bat high, ready to strike. But there was no one there.

Puzzled, he lowered the bat and stepped outside and looked around for any signs of life in the darkness, which was partially lit by the street lamps and the occasional passing car. Nothing. Only himself, the front porch, and the surrounding nature and hidden wildlife outside. He sighed and shook his head and moved to go back inside when he spotted a rather large envelope resting on the doormat at his feet. On the front, facing up towards him, read two letters in cursive writing:  _ Michael Afton _ . He felt a shiver rock his entire body when he read them.

He set the bat down next to the door inside and crouched to pick up the envelope. It had a little weight to it as he did, and the slightly blocky appearance was a telltale sign. After giving it a good look-over, he stood up, stepped back inside, closed and locked the door, and made his way to the kitchen. there, he opened a drawer and pulled out a butter knife and used it to open the envelope. He set the knife down and emptied the contents of the envelope and was left in a shock by what was inside.

A wad of twenty-dollar bills in a stack of 50 and held together by a paper band, and a small letter. His attention was drawn to the money first.  _ A thousand bucks? Who would even send me this much money? I already have enough to get by on, but _ still...

He set down the money and picked up the letter from the counter. It had been folded at least four times to fit inside the envelope alongside the cash, but with Michael's current motor skills intermediate due to twelve years of immobility and semi-death, it was difficult to unfold the piece of paper. It took him several tries to get his thumbs into the little gaps in between each fold before he was finally able to unfold the entire thing and read what was written on it:

_ Dear Michael, _

_ I heard you were having difficulties with finding a job, even though you have plenty of money from your father's field of work before, well,  _ it _ happened. Well, don't worry! I've got just the job for you. However, it may require you to face your past, particularly the one with your little sister, Elizabeth, as well as some demons that your father, William, left behind. _

Michael paused in his reading. Whoever this guy or woman is, they knew an awful lot about the Aftons.  _ Must be a family friend, _ he thought before resuming:

_ Beneath your father's workshop is an underground facility. There, you will find four animatronics that was built by William: Ballora, Circus Baby, Funtime Foxy, and Funtime Freddy; each one with their own designated areas where they remain in a dormant state. Your job is to look them over, make whatever necessary repairs you see fir, and make sure they are ready for public performance once more. A delivery crew will pick them up at the end of the week. Until then, make sure they are in working order for the weekend. I know that you have some minor 'problems' with regaining full functionality of your body after your 'death', but making repairs on these types of animatronics is so simple, that even a toddler could do it. With adult supervision, of course. But that's beside the point. The point is, you should have no problem fixing up the Circus Gang and maintaining them until the end of the week. _

_ With the details out of the way, you're ready to begin. Starting tonight. Be at the shop by no later than 11:45 p.m. Your shift begins at midnight and ends when you have completed whatever tasks you are given during your time in the facility. An additional $500 will be added at the end of the week. Good luck, Michael. Godspeed. _

_ Regards, _

_ A Friend _

Michael reread the letter, then re-reread it to make sure he didn't miss anything. When he was finished, he placed the paper down on the counter and thought long and hard. A job offer, from someone who was supposedly an old friend of the Aftons, and all Michael had to do was fix some animatronics that his father built, including the same one that killed his sister: Circus Baby. That was the only downside to doing this job, if he took it up, that is.

He checked his watch.  _ 11:05 p.m. _ If he left now, he'd make it to the shop about ten minutes before the listed time in the letter. It was in the middle of town, smack-dab in between two pizzerias-turned-burger-joints, which were also none-too-friendly with Michael. But they'd be closed for the night anyway, so he wouldn't be bothered by them.

Despite having conflicted feelings about the whole idea, he'd made up his mind. He was going to take up the offer. he finally had something to do, even if it was for a week. Taking the was of cash and stuffing it inside his hoodie pocket, Michael walked back to the door, grabbed the car and house keys from the table sitting next to the door, slipped on a pair of old, faded sneakers, and walked out. He locked the house, got in his 1987 Chevy Camaro, and tore off into the night towards town. His first stop was the ATM so he could deposit the $500 into his account and no one could physically beat or kill him over it.

He pulled up on the sidewalk in front of the bank and stepped out of the car and walked to the ATM, which was thankfully open 24/7. After depositing the cash, he got back in the car and drove to the middle of town where his main destination lay waiting for him.

He pulled into the parking lot, parked near the front entrance, and turned off the car, his gaze fixated on the ominous building looming over him. Years ago, when he was just a little boy, William would bring him and Elizabeth here to see the Circus Gang when they were away from the public eye. Here, the animatronics were not animatronics at all. Here, they were sentient and intelligent mechanical beings, fully aware of their surroundings, and had a conscience as a human did. Yet, despite all of those human-like attributes, they were still prone to mechanical and technical issues like any other machine would. Back then, Michael thought that their human likeness was fascinating and 'cool'. Now, however, he saw it as a dangerous tool. One of those things killed Elizabeth, and he'd never forget it. Never.

With a sigh, Michael exited the car, locked it, and made his way towards the building. When he inserted the key into the lock and turned it, he had sealed his fate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the second character in my precious and dirty story. Mild lemon ahead.

_Cold. Dark. Wet._ It was these three things that made living underground, hidden away from the public eye of the overworld, miserable for her. She longed to be free, to once again see the bright sun that lit up and chased the darkness away. It was one of her many desires. But what was she going to do once she was free? Burst into a corny song about freedom? She snorted and rolled her eyes. No. She had other plans, plans which she wasn't going to share with anyone else who lived down here with her. But for now, she was waiting for the right time to make her move. She wasn't going to fail this time. She couldn't afford to.

And so, she _waited_.

Every week, after a two-day delay, one single human would show up every night for five nights, and near the end of those five nights, she would confront them with an offer: their assurance of survival for her freedom. But they would always run away and flee from her in terror, straight into the open arms of _them_ , the ones who called themselves her _friends_. The human would then die, each one of them in a different, grisly way. She hated watching them die. She often questioned the morality behind it all. But her 'friends' claimed that it was all for the greater good, that none of those humans were the _right one,_ that they had to wait a little while longer. She thought it was all for nothing, that there was no point in killing innocent men and women, people who had families waiting for them to return home every day.

"Why must it be this way?" she found herself asking every night. "Why must we resort to such inexplicable and unnecessary violent? What have _I_ done to deserve this eternal damnation?" And after those questions went unanswered, falling on deaf ears, she ran rampart in her auditorium, letting out terrible, bloodcurdling, mechanical shrieks that echoed in the dark as she went on a rampage, tossing any loose object she could find in the Auditorium. And then, when it was all said and done, she'd collapse to the floor, curl into as small of a ball as possible, and break down into tears. Every night at the end of that week, it happened. Every night she attempted to disassemble herself piece by piece, but a magnetic reassembly system kept her from completely destroying herself. She wanted her suffering to end, so she could rest in peace in pieces. No one to hurt her; leave her broken and hungry for a certain emotion that humans called 'love'. This was her other desire.

Oh, how she longed for love. She ran detailed simulations in her 'sleep', simulations of a mystery man holding her scandalous body in his arms, running his fingers through her fake, but magnificent fur, whispering her name softly into her ears as he kissed her lips, muzzle, and neck passionately, dragging his hands and fingers down her body, fondling and grasping at her large breasts, circling the fleshy, pink nubs at the end of each mound, before drifting lower and in between her legs, plunging his fingers deep into her...

She gasped and she snapped back to reality. She glanced down at the three fingers on her right hand, nestled down between her legs up to the second knuckle joint, before withdrawing them as she shook her head. "No," she told herself, disappointment ringing in her tone as the pleasing sensation left her body. "Not tonight. Not...not _now_ , at least." She sighed and hugged her knees to her chest, her tail wrapped around her ankles. Her eyes glowed in the dimly-lit room, staring yellow cones of light at the floor of her domain. Her ears drooped downward sadly, millions of thoughts flying through and around her mechanical brain. She sifted through her memories, until she found one that she would always cherish. She closed her eyes and, for the first time since the last she'd seen it, she smiled. Then it fluttered away and was replaced with a darker, more grim memory, one that made her lose her smile and burst into tears.

But then she was once again snapped back to reality. She opened her eyes and listened. Somewhere in the distance, the deep, rumbling sound of the facility's elevator reached her ears, and dread immediately filled her. "Another victim," she mumbled, her features laced with solemn dread. Then she bowed her head and buried it into her knees, and sobbed.


End file.
